


Pragmatics

by jackycomelately



Category: Figure Skating - Fandom, Glam - Fandom, RPF - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Written for the Texts From Last Night Challenge.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-10
Updated: 2010-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-11 00:43:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackycomelately/pseuds/jackycomelately
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't know Johnny Weir or Evan Lysacek. All lies. Text: (765): <i>He bought me flowers. The card with it said: Sorry I cant get you off. I will try harder.</i> Evan and Johnny both need to work on their follow through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pragmatics

**Author's Note:**

> **Author Note: ** Special thanks to the awesome rusty_armour for the beta and the title. Someone bring her the best Sherlocks and Johns in all the land! This story pre-dates Twittergate. I'm doing mean things to Evan in the next story, and tentatively plotting out a new fucked-up guy for Johnny in the third. Pete Wentz anyone?

"God, you're beautiful," was the last thing Evan said before he passed out.

"Lovely," Johnny said brightly.

Evan had had to do some major begging to get him this far. It wasn't that Johnny had been expecting that much from Evan—a warm hand on his cock basically. Frankly, Evan had sexual dysfunction written all over his skating. Not to mention that closeted guys generally sucked in bed. But he was lonely, specifically for the fucked up world he had left, and Evan was there and clearly as messed up as always, only without the context that made him make sense. So, sex had briefly seemed logical, if only to end their relationship on a better note. He didn't know what he had been thinking. Probably that he couldn't make things worse.

Evan hadn't had that much to drink. No more than Johnny. Enough to impair judgment, but not performance. Johnny was briefly tempted to jerk off on him, but opted, instead, for a cold shower back at his own room. It probably wasn't even the alcohol; he bet Evan had quit sleeping again.

When Evan woke up two hours later, he was alone and sadly unmolested.

***

  
Evan always felt a little awkward at skating events these days. He was doing okay. The endorsements had been lucrative, and trying to be a good spokesperson had been an interesting challenge, but they had run their course. There was a new gold medalist and he could always see it reflected in people's faces. Oh, him. Right. How very dull.

Moving forward, he spotted Johnny. He flushed hard at the memory of their last meeting. He had finally caught Johnny in a weak moment and than managed to fuck everything up. Johnny hated his guts. Or merely despised him. It sort of depended on the day. Still, it would be good to see him, even his familiar contempt. At least Johnny never looked like Evan bored the shit out of him.

Evan didn't recognize the people hanging off Johnny. He was always in a crowd these days. Johnny's book had done well (much better than the one that had been ghost written for Evan). Evan knew from the million of interviews Johnny had done promoting it that he had appeared in Johnny's book less than expected. Johnny had shrugged and said dryly, "There's more to me than the mongoose." Evan hadn't known whether to be relieved or disappointed. He had a copy of the book at home. It was still in its crisp plastic wrapping.

Half the people surrounding Johnny scattered when Evan approached. He wasn't sure what that meant, but probably nothing good.

"Johnny."

"Evan."

"Can I speak with you for a minute alone?"

"I guess," Johnny said with no enthusiasm whatsoever. "I have chores to finish up, anyway. I'll catch up with everyone this afternoon."

Many hugs later everyone had taken off.

Johnny looked at Evan inquisitively. "Yes? Have you come to grovel at my feet and beg for another chance?"

Evan looked down at his feet briefly and back up to meet Johnny's eyes. "Pretty much. Yes."

Johnny looked mildly interested. "Go ahead, then."

"You actually want me to…?"

"Not particularly, but, if that's your kink, far be it for me to…"

"Johnny!" Evan whacked him on his bare shoulder. "I'm sorry, okay? I was really tired and more than a little drunk. I would really really appreciate a second chance. I promise not to fall asleep this time."

Johnny looked at him. Evan looked like crap on a stick. "When's the last time you slept?"

"On the plane coming over. We got in a few hours ago."

"How long was the flight?"

"Six hours."

"And you slept what?" Johnny asked. "Four of them?" Evan looked uncomfortable. "Three of them?"

Evan shrugged. "A few hours at least."

"Wonderful. Okay, I'll tell you what. Things don't start until two tomorrow. You have anything on for the morning?"

"Nothing between ten and one."

"Good. You get at least six hours tonight and you meet me at ten at my hotel room. I'm not promising, but, if you look less like death, we'll see where it goes."

Evan had really meant to follow Johnny's orders to the letter. He freely admitted that he took shit care of himself. He was too used to ignoring signs of exhaustion and hunger. Six hours sounded doable. He had an interview at seven. He figured he'd head to his room at eleven, catch some sleep, get up at five to work out and get ready. He might even get in a nap after the interview. He'd be set.

However, that was before he realized that the party from hell was going on next door. He put his earplugs in. No dice. He complained to the desk. Didn't help. He knocked and complained next door. They apologized but the noise level remained set on stun. Finally, at four, he gave up. He went to work out at the all-night gym. If he could get his workout over with, he'd have more time to crash once the party did. Returning at five, it was much quieter. He checked his alarm clock three times and closed his eyes. His blood was still racing from the workout. He sighed. He managed to doze until the alarm clock went off at six thirty. He shaved, dressed and headed off to his interview.

Back at his room at eight-thirty, he managed another hour of dozing. He knew any real sleep would just make him groggy at this point. He had some coffee, brushed his teeth, took a quick second shower with special attention to all the bits he was hoping Johnny would be interested in, and used half a bottle of eye drops. He practised his most alert expression all the way to Johnny's room. At least the flowers had arrived on schedule.

Johnny looked pretty _and_ well-rested. He was wearing his bangs down, with a sweater, scarf and jeans, all in different shades of soft green. His feet were bare.

He took one look at Evan and rolled his eyes.

Evan didn't even try to lie. "There was a party in the next room," he said miserably. "All night. It sucked."

Johnny looked at him again. "Okay, fine, but we're not fucking. I'll make out with you a bit. You can even get some sleep here, but I'm not setting myself up for disappointment." His expression brightened a little. "Are those for me?"

Evan handed him the flowers and followed him into his room. That sounded good, actually.

Johnny unwrapped the roses in their crystal vase and brightened further. "They're gorgeous!" He detached and read the card without comment. He set both on the dresser, paused to admire the flowers again, and tossed the wrapping paper.

Evan took his shoes off and sat on the bed. Johnny took his scarf off and stripped away his sweater, folding them neatly on the other bed. Johnny had an incredible body. Evan's eyes followed Johnny's finely muscled arms as they flexed against his thin t-shirt. Evan almost swallowed his tongue when Johnny bent down to get a serving plate out of the small fridge, emphasizing his round ass.

"I bet you haven't eaten anything either." Johnny set the plate down on the bed: fruit, cheese and bits of sausage. Johnny opened a package of rice crackers and added them to the plate. He handed Evan a can of soda water and settled next to him on the bed. It was really nice. They leaned against propped up pillows and picked at the plate, the small amounts of food settling warmly into Evan's stomach. He waited until they both had their mouths empty and slid his hand across Johnny's back. Johnny raised his eyebrow a little, but agreeably leaned into him, allowing Evan to put his arm around him. In silent accord, they each took a good gulp of their soda water before moving the drinks, and almost empty plate, to the night stand. Evan eased his forehead against Johnny's and went for the kiss. Soft, soft, soft. And then Johnny opened his mouth and Jesus Christ…They slid forward, flat on the bed. Evan rolled on top, holding his weight with his elbows. He tasted the underside of Johnny's jaw, licked into his mouth, and finally cupped his awesome ass. Johnny made a small humming sound of pleasure.

"Well, someone is awake." Johnny sounded more amused than turned on to Evan's disappointment. "I'll think about it," he said, and Evan looked crushed. "No, really, I'll think about it."

"But why not now?" Evan was aware he was whining. He just couldn't bring himself to care.

"Because as soon as you've come, you'll be out like a light. Serious players only in my bed, baby."

"I could get you off first," Evan coaxed.

"Yes," Johnny said in Evan's ear, husky and teasing, "but once I get started, I like to go all night."

Evan moaned. "Jesus, Johnny!"

"Call me when you get back home. We'll see. And, you, you should get some sleep. Go!" Johnny wiggled out from underneath him and tugged Evan to his feet. Despite his complaints, Evan found himself heading back to his room, hard and unhappy. He did manage to catch another two hours of sleep before all the events began.

Flying home that night, he was lonely and horny. He could call someone when he got home. Hey, he could totally call someone! He was a gold medalist; someone would want to fuck him. Okay, that was the wrong attitude. Someone awesome would want to fuck him! That was better. But he didn't want someone. Even a really awesome someone. He wanted Johnny.  


***

  
Johnny looked at Paris. "He bought me flowers. The card with it said: Sorry I cant get you off. I will try harder. Paris, he left out the apostrophe. You know how I feel about people who can't punctuate properly."

Paris stared at him. "He can't get you off and you're worried about his PUNCTUATION?"

"He fell asleep and, no, it wasn't the most flattering thing ever, but I can teach him to get me off. I don't know if I have the patience to fix his grammar."

"Were they nice flowers?"

Johnny considered. "Yes, very nice. From the same place that Brad used when he and Angelina celebrated adopting their twelfth child."

"Ohhhh…that _is_ nice."

"Yes, while, granted, roses are not terribly imaginative, there is a reason they are considered a classic."

"Pretty, were they?"

"Very." Johnny moved restlessly across the room stopping to fiddle with an ornament. It was probably time to switch some of them out for something in storage. He wished he had the space to show them all at once. "You remember how much he sucked as a skater when he started?" Johnny asked.

"Sure."

"He won a gold medal. I mean, artistically, he still sucked donkey balls, but he did win a gold medal. I recognize that obsessed look in his eyes. If I want to spend the time training him properly, he'll make me come my brains out. It's pretty obvious that no one has been willing to spend the time necessary up until now. I'm a little disappointed in Tanith. Or, maybe, she was even more of a beard than I thought."

"So, if he calls?"

"Maybe. He took me being a teasing bitch pretty well. He was hard as a rock too. We'll see if he calls."

Johnny's _Bad Romance_ ring tone broke the silence of the apartment.


End file.
